“What did you say, Garrick?”
“Let me help you down, Morna,” he answered in his own language.
“I knew you would come around,” Morna said with great confidence. “When I learned you got rid of that Celtic witch, I knew you would be mine again.”
“Did you indeed?”
Brenna could not bear to listen to any more. She ran through the hall, oblivious to Cordella’s and Heloise’s calls, and stumbled out the back of the house. She wiped viciously at the tears that blurred her eyes and ran, without stopping, to the stable to get Willow.
When Garrick saw that Brenna was gone, he quickly released his hold on Morna’s waist. He stared murderously at the open doorway where she had stood, still picturing her there, wanting to put his hands on her, yet knowing full well if he came that close to her, he would kill her.
“Well, help me down then, my love.”
Garrick turned his fiery gaze on Morna. “What I will help you do is feel the weight of my sword!”
“Wha—what is wrong with you?”
“Never approach me on the road and follow me again, Morna! If you value your life, do not ever come near me again!”
“But—but I thought all was forgiven!” she cried. “You smiled at me. You—you did not growl a moment before when she was—” Morna gasped, her blue eyes widening.
“Was your congenial mood just forherbenefit?”
“Take care, Morna,” he warned coldly. “I do not have the patience to endure your presence.”
“Garrick, please. You must forgive me for the past. We shared a love once. Have you forgotten that?”
“Nay, I remember you vowed your love.” His voice grew lower, like the calm before a storm. “And also that you turned to the first man who dangled a purse before your greedy eyes.”
“I have changed, Garrick. Wealth no longer has importance to me.”
“You can say that easily, now that you have what you want,” he said with contempt.
“’Tis not true, Garrick. I want you. I have always wanted you.”
“And I wanted you—then. Now I would sooner rot in hell than turn to you!”
“Do not say that, Garrick!” she cried.
“Begone, Morna!”
“’Tis because of that foreign witch that you will not forgive me! What spell has she cast on you?”
“No spell. She is dead to me, as you are. Neither of you will find forgiveness in me!”
“You—”
He cut her off with a sharp whack on the rump of her horse. The animal bolted from the yard, with Morna fighting to control it yet trying to look back at the same time. Garrick turned away in disgust.
That he once thought he loved that woman was inconceivable now. He had been drawn to her beauty, and proud that he would marry the most desirable wench in the county. But these were not measures of love. When he lost her, it was wounded pride that had turned him bitter, the fact that she had chosen a fat merchant over him.
Morna’s only true motivation had been greed. Brenna had needed freedom and was unable to share herself. She had gone to great lengths for that freedom and to control her own life. She had used lies, deception. She vowed love as easily as Morna once did, speaking words that held no truth. Well, Brenna was welcome to her freedom, welcome to return to her land and forever leave his life.
Garrick entered the hall and suppressed some of his anger before he approached his mother. But seeing Brenna’s sister so satisfied and pleased with her new life here, only added to his bitterness. Why was Brenna the only one who could not adjust?
“Where is Hugh?” Garrick asked stonily.
Heloise did not look up from her sewing. “My youngest son is here, yet I would not know this since he has forgotten the common courtesies I have tried so hard to teach him.”
